


nasty girl

by laurelsalexis



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 20:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: Some things never change.





	nasty girl

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from insertsarcasticusername on tumblr dot com: For falice u should totally write one about alice doing the serpent dance again, older, rejoining the serpent. Fp is there for her and a little bit jealous.
> 
> song used is nasty girl by vanity 6, courtesy of madchen herself in an old interview. [listen to it.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzqBzCU_zpw) the lyrics are in the fic and really, it's not my personal favorite thing to do but necessary.

As far as F.P. is concerned you never stop being a Serpent.

The only exception is being stripped of your status for breaking one of the rules. That hadn’t happened to Alice. She took a different walk of life and that was that. The snake tattoo still rests on her hip and she stops attacking them at every which turn. She accepts both he and Jughead, _finally_. He doesn’t miss the way her wardrobe gradually darkens and she’s wearing more snake stuff than he thought he ever saw her in back when she was walking this life right alongside him.

Doesn’t hurt she mentions still having her jacket one night when she’s sitting in his lap, waiting for her turn in the game of pool in the bar.

What he wouldn’t do to see Alice Cooper, of the Northside’s _beloved_ Coopers, walking around wearing a Serpent jacket like she’s sixteen all over again. The other parents would have a fit.

It’d be worth it.

Still, some of the Serpents still don’t trust Alice.

He doesn’t _entirely_ blame them. He knows Alice. Inside and out. Has no reason not to trust her even after all of the bullshit the last twenty years put on them. She’s there now and that’s what he finds matters. The others don’t get it and even with status within the group it’s a little difficult to not make it look like he’s doing nothing but playing favorites.

It’s not entirely untrue. As the leader he makes sure they are all in line and he spends far too much time making sure things are running smoothly. When it comes to two in particular though, his alliance is a little stronger. Jughead is his son and Alice, well, he’s been spending a _lot_ more time with her.

Something that is called to attention when they’re all in the Whyte Wyrm one night.

F.P. almost decks the guy who suggests she do the dance.

He almost tells Alice absolutely not when she agrees.

He’s really glad when Toni isn’t there to give her objections to the dance in general.

“It’s fine.” Alice tells him, briefly, clipped even, when she’s sitting on the steps of his trailer, crossing her arms as she looks up at him as he stands before her.

“It’s not fine.” He’s not an idiot. “You’ve done it once.”

“Then I left.” She shrugs, brushing off the concerns. “It’s what they want and I’ve had a lot worse things than taking off my clothes in a room full of Serpents.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Good thing I’m not doing it for you.” She stands, reaching for his hands in her own, the step giving her height on him. “If they need this to accept me I can do it. You only hate it because we’re older. It’s not like you suddenly have _moral_ objections to the dance.”

F.P. doesn’t validate her all too accurate statement. He knows how this works and knows that his objections are because it’s _Alice_. He doesn’t want everyone to see her like he gets to see her. Didn’t enjoy it when they were teens and won’t enjoy it now. Not _entirely_ true. He will **definitely** enjoy it. He just won’t enjoy everyone looking at her. It’s hypocritical but he really doesn’t care. “Good thing you’re still hot.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Nothing but the truth, babe.” He leans into give her a kiss.

She rolls her but there’s a smile, gaze dropping to his lips. “I have to go home before Betty realizes where I’m spending all my time.”

“Get out of here, Martha Stewart.”

Alice rolls her eyes but she’s definitely smiling. “Martha Stewart doesn’t do half the things I do.”

F.P. kisses her again, letting it linger, grabbing her hand in his hand. “That’s why I keep you around.”

* * *

 It’s a solid week before the night arrives. Alice doesn’t tell him but someone else does. He decides to let her have her little surprise. The little surprise that causes her to all but ignore him the previous day. They can still be as hot and cold as they were in high school.

At least he knows the reason.

F.P. has been sitting in the Whyte Wyrm for the past forty minutes. He’s done nothing more than listen to the idle conversation of those around him and listens to Sweet Pea go on about some fight he got in. Definitely to impress the girl who is not impressed at all.

Been there.

Toni slides into the empty seat separating him and Cheryl, turning so Toni is looking at him over her girlfriend. “She’s been back there a while.” Toni tells him, taking a sip of her drink. “Maybe she realized she’s not into the misogynistic dance to please a bunch of men. Even if that’s you.” It’s a pointed statement.

F.P. gets up, shaking his head. “Stick to your girl and I’ll stick to mine.” He doesn’t say he doesn’t need another Blossom family tragedy on his hands but he sure as hell thinks it.

The door is cracked open ever so slightly, causing him to invite himself in, eying Alice who is sitting on one of the boxes, bottle of tequila in her hand, iron grip around the neck. “Turns out I’m not as confident as I was when I did this the first time.”

F.P. just smiles, squatting down in front of her, hands on her thighs. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m doing it.” Alice said in her normal determination and inability to ever back down from a challenge. She takes a sip from the bottle before resting it between her thighs. “It can’t be as bad as the first time.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not for you.” She pauses, letting out a breath. “I almost broke Tall Boy’s nose.”

“He would have deserved it.”

“You can stop saying I don’t have to do it. We both know I have to do it. Unless the rules that have existed since before our time have changed.” She bites the words at him before taking a sip of the tequila.

F.P. doesn’t say anything.

“Exactly.” She lets out a final sigh, handing him the bottle. “Take this I don’t want to be drunk.”

F.P. stands and takes the bottle from her, eyeing her carefully. She always has a certain look when she’s down in the Southside with him. Suddenly there’s far more black and far more snake elements than even he bothers with outside of his jacket and maybe one too many dumb snake facts, that he secretly loves but that is far from the point.

“We’re in this together, F.P.” Her tone says everything the words don’t.

He nods, almost as if he cannot believe she’s there sometimes. Teenage Alice was so ready to run from everything and he didn’t blame her, doesn’t blame her now. Not with everything that happened and what was laid out before them. He doesn’t regret things and he knows she doesn’t either. Without their paths neither would have their kids and if there was always one common ground throughout everything it’s the devotion to their children. Neither are there for the kids now, though, not when neither Jughead nor Betty would approve. Forget JB and Polly.

“I mean it.” She takes the bottle and takes the sip she didn’t want moments prior, moving to stand in the process. “I’m not some Serpent trophy to look pretty at your side.”

“I’m not Hal.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice, one he can’t help, just by the topic at hand. Hal never brings out anything good when it comes to him. “I don’t need any of that shit and I never did. You _know_ that.” He takes her hand, gripping her wrist, placing her palm against his chest, on top the black of his shirt. “This means something to me, Ali. This tattoo, us, _everything_. It’s meant something since the day you sat by my side while I tried not to scream my god damn lungs out.” F.P. takes a step closer, _needing_ to be closer. “You have never been a trophy and any person out there who thinks that can go fuck themselves. We _are_ in  this together.”

Her face softens, setting the tequila bottle down on one of the boxes, moving her hand so she’s fiddling with the end of his jacket. “You always did know what to say in here.”

“So did you. You still do. Let go, _be yourself_ , even if just for right now.”

Alice nods, swallowing, putting that smile on her face. She lets out a final breath and pulls her hands back to herself, adjusting her clothes so they are on her perfectly. “Okay, I’m ready.”

F.P. smiles before leaning into kiss her, only for her to stop him.

“You’ll ruin my lipstick and there’s no good mirror back here.”  

“Some things never change.” F.P. rolls his eyes and has half a mind to defy her. Instead, he kisses her on the cheek instead. “I’ll ruin your lipstick later.”

Alice gives him a slight shove but her laughter fills the small room.

F.P. gives her one last glance before he walks back out in the main area of the bar. He moves through the crowd until he has the perfect view, standing in front of the pool table, leaning back against it. Most of the other Serpent members are talking among themselves and he sees some of the younger ones huddled in a group that makes him slightly suspect.

Jughead isn’t with them though, nor is Betty. He prefers it that way. Alice never explicitly told him that she didn’t want either of them there, but he did his best to make sure they weren’t there. For a lot of reasons but mostly since it seemed like it would be an awkward experience for everyone. They will definitely hear about it before the night is over and Jughead will definitely ask him about, Betty speaking to Alice. Neither exactly know how to keep quiet.

The thing about the Serpents is that most of them were there when Alice did this the first time. He can remember who punched him in the face, during his own initiation, so hard that he nearly broke his nose. The bruise on his rib took weeks to fully heal, but he got his jacket and his tattoo. They’re seasoned members and happy to be part of them.

Sometimes F.P. is still a bit surprise he’s the leader.

The whistles start the minute Alice steps onto the stage, the light bright on her. She looks far more put together and confident in true Alice Cooper nature when she stands there. She’s dressed in black. From the high high boots to the tight leather skirt, to the shirt that leaves far more to the imagination than when Betty did a dance of her own, and the leather jacket that would look far better if it had the Serpent symbol on the back.

Later.

F.P. lets out a breath and tries not to think about how much he wants her and how much he kind of wants to punch every last person in there for looking at her.

It’s part of the initiation. Or reinitiation in her case.

It is what it is.

He folds his arms across his chest as he looks at her, eying her up and down, letting the lights settle on her.

She steps up to the mic and puts her hand around it, taking a look out at the crowd. “I remember growing up in the trailer park and I seeing the Southside Serpents from when I was a small girl. From the leather jackets to the motorcycles to the never ending bruises, tears, and unity. My mother hated you. Right up until the day she died.” There’s a small pause, looking out at the crowd. “I also know I turned a little bit too much into my mother. She’d be proud of me for the way I spoke of you in the Register for the past twenty years, the way I raised my girls to hate you, and the way I pretended I was never one of you. She never wanted to be the Serpent Slut she told me I was.”

The room is so silent a pin could drop and it’d be heard. Something of a feat given how many are in the room.

F.P. really hopes this little speech of hers takes a better turn than it is so far.

“My mother was wrong. Just as I am wrong. It took my daughter, Betty, to open my eyes.” Her gaze shifts to F.P. “I am a Serpent and I will always be a Serpent.”  

F.P. gives her a nod in return, just as the music starts to play. The music that makes it so he has to do every last thing not to laugh. Of course Alice would pick the same damn song she did back when they were teens. Of course. Otherwise she wouldn’t have the edge to tell the older Serpents to subtly go fuck themselves.

He’s a little too proud of her in that moment.

A lot proud at hearing her say she’s a Serpent.

She slowly makes work of the zipper on her jacket, pulling it off of her shoulders and down onto the floor as the beat to the song starts. Her head is held high as she looks out at everyone standing there, men and women alike, all who know what it’s like to be a Serpent.

  

_That’s right, pleased to meet you, I still won’t tell you my name_ _  
_ _Don’t you believe in mystery, don’t you wanna play my game_

 

Alice steps back so the light fully shines on her, revealing her in all her glory. There’s a soft sway to her hips as she mouths the words, settingly her gaze on F.P. for another brief moment.

She’s slow as she plays with the buttons of her shirt, one by one, carefully looking around with an edge of a smirk across those lips of hers.

The black lace hidden beneath the shirt is something in full view as she shirt drops to the floor, standing there, letting everyone have their moment.

F.P. swallows, eyes focusing so intently on her, licking his lips. It’s his favorite. The one she has specifically. He’s not too picky about any of that, in truth, but there is always something about that one that makes him prefer it as he does. Her skin glows beneath the light and the way her tits are emphasized, the peaks of skin along her sides.

He breaks from her for only a moment, taking a look around, watching as the others are focused on her just as he was.

Yeah, it’s that he hates more than what she’s doing up there.

 

_Don’t you believe in mystery, don’t you wanna play my game_ _  
_ _I’m looking for a man to love, like I’ve never been loved before_

 

Alice reaches behind herself and pulls down the zipper on her skirt, letting the leather fall down her legs. There’s a shimmy of her hips before she steps out, letting herself move more for the audience than anyone. Her smirk becomes something more of a smile, a hair too wide, as he hand finds the pole, gripping it.

She’s not looking at him but he’s definitely look at her.

 

_I’m looking for a man that’ll do it anywhere, even on a limousine floor_ _  
_ _Tonight I’m livin’ in a fantasy, my own little nasty world._

 

The pole becomes the center of her attention, moving around it, far more together than he remembers when they were teens.

Back then, though, he can definitely say he was sixteen and wanting to fuck her more than worrying too much about anything else. Not that the desires are too far off, only he has far more sense about it, self control, even.

His gaze follows the line of her body and focuses on where he knows her tattoo is. It’s covered, mostly. His gaze travels up the sides of her torso, bits of exposed skin catching his eyes, before he’s settled on the red of her lips as she runs her hands through her hair.

He swallows, letting out a breath, just as one of the younger Serpents turns back to look at him. He ignores the gaze, rather keeps the picture perfect composure. As if it’s just anyone.

Alice has never been just anyone.

 

_Tonight, don’t you wanna come with me, do you think I’m a nasty girl_ _  
_ _Tonight I’m living’ in a fantasy, my own little nasty world_

 

Even after so many years the lyrics are clear and he remembers the first time she played the song before him. Her parents were gone and they wound up in that trailer of hers, proving just how well she was acquainted. Down on her knees. Red’s been his favorite ever since.  

 

_Tonight, don’t you wanna come with me, do you think I’m a nasty girl_ _  
_ _I guess I’m just used to sailors, I think they got water on the brain_

 

“She’s still hot as Hell, isn’t she?” The voice tries to whisper, at least, not shout, not whistle, rather leaning in to make sure he’s heard.

F.P. makes a sound in which he agrees. She is. More so now. Now that they are older and have lived. Not that either of them seemed to have figured out much more.

“Divorcing that husband of hers, I hear.”

He turns his head then, eyebrow raising. Everyone’s heard, of course. He doesn’t bother to ever ask. Hal and Gladys are people they don’t speak of and he likes it that way. Makes some things easier to deal with.

“Just saying.” He shrugs. “If you don’t, I will.”

F.P. really, really tries not to be jealous or want to punch the guy. He has actually has to think of all the shit he would cause if he did end up punching the guy. He’s their leader and for as much an impulsive asshole he tends to be he can actually be a damn decent leader. At least as far as he’s concerned.

He has no interest in selling coke on the streets and running his girls for what services they can provide.

Maybe he doesn’t have a ton of morals but he has some.

He lets out a breath and focuses back on the stage, her eyes burning into him, hands running along her legs, moving up her torso, grabbing at herself as she nearly makes one with the pole. Her eyes shut once he’s properly looking at him, the words coming out effortlessly in line with the song.

 

_i think they got more water upstairs, than they got sugar on a candy cane_ _  
_ _That’s right, it’s been a long time, since I had a man that did it real good_

 

Her movements are as effortless as they were when they were teens. She’s a little rusty, a little on edge, a little conscious of what the hell is actually happening. None of that stops her though, not when she’s finally moving like a snake, effortlessly, bending over so he can see just how well that damn lingerie fits her.

Always had a special affection for her tits but he can’t deny the curve of her ass is one of the things that’s only gotten better with age.

 

_If you ain’t scared take it out, I’ll do it like a real live nasty girl should_

 

F.P. claps as he’s walking to the stage, hands of guys on him as he walks through the crowd, eyes on Alice as she stops and stands up properly. She’s only looking at him. Not anyone else. Just him as her clothes are in a mess beneath her feet and the eyes on them both.

God he really needs a drink as he tries to remain calm. As if this whole thing is normal.

Normally, he would say something. Some nice speech or something about the girl or the Serpents. Last time he was up there he gave the elaborate speech about how he wasn’t retiring and he knew the exact moment she walked out. They never talked about it, but he knew. He knew just how much she wanted him pulled away from this life.

Now she’s there.

His moves to rest on the side of her neck, fingers buried in her hair, hand on her hip, feeling the fabric of her lingerie underneath. He kisses her. Right then and there. In front of everyone. No care in the world. Not when the desire is burning through him, at such a rapid pace he hates where they are. But more than that he wants every last person in that damn bar to know that Alice Cooper is off limits.

He’s not one for sharing.

Hasn’t been since a long time ago when he _did_ have to share her.

It’s territorial, in a way that would probably make Alice Cooper slap him in any other scenario.

She doesn’t though, rather she wraps her arms around him, pushing her body against his as she kisses him back.

There’s no hiding the smile when they break apart, not listening to anyone in the room, nor caring they are definitely in plain sight. There’s no secret to be had and kissing her right then.

“Together.” He whispers, taking the jacket off of him and putting it on her.

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/) \+ [twitter.](https://twitter.com/laurelsalexis)


End file.
